Myself Against The World
by WithoutAWord
Summary: Fed up with Frank's constant jibe's, Carla decides to prove that she's telling the truth.
1. Chapter 1

_**A/N **Hello everyone :) I felt really bad not getting time to write the next chapter of No More Games, however I found this lurking on my computer so thought I'd share. I need to say now; I am teetotal, so if there's bits that don't sound right, that's why! I wrote this fic because I can't wait for everyone to know who Frank really is. Even with what's happening at the moment, the truth about Frank and Carla doesn't seem to have been addressed. It's set while Frank is still alive and wreaking havoc in the factory. I've already written a good chunk of the next chapter, but I don't know how much time I'm going to get to finish it, so I'm not sure how long it will be until the next update. As always, all reviews welcome :) Enjoy!_

Carla sat at the bar, admiring the glass of red in her hand as it reflected the light off of its surface. She swirled the glass, transfixed by the interesting patterns she could create, and wondered why she had tried to resist for so long. It looked so enticing, and would dull the pain even just for a few hours. A few glasses wouldn't do any harm, but they'd be just enough to take the edge off. It'd been so long since she'd had a break from the chaos inside her head, and right now nobody was here to stop her.

She raised the glass to her lips, closing her eyes and savouring every memorable moment; she knew it would be a long time until she got another chance to drown out her thoughts and be free from the never-ending nightmare in which she lived. The aroma which floated from the alluring liquid was so familiar and she tilted the glass a little further, ready to taste the beauty sent from Heaven to ease her sorrow. She yearned for the satisfaction she knew she'd receive from just the smallest of sips.

'A scotch please, Stella.' Carla's eyes shot open and stared in the direction of the voice which she hated with all her soul, slamming the glass onto the surface with a loud clatter. Frank remained perfectly still, his eyes moving in isolation towards Carla in a way which sent chills up her spine. But she wasn't going to show him how deeply he could affect her; she wouldn't let him win. 'Sorry Carla, I thought as you already had one you wouldn't want another. Same again is it?'

'You're unbelievable' she hissed, through gritted teeth. It was one of those comments which were more to herself than anybody else, yet she still felt the need to share. 'What are you doing here?'

'Oh Carla is there any need? I was only trying to be polite.' Every time he said her name it made her feel physically sick, and he knew it. Each time he said it she'd make some sort of uncomfortable gesture. It was too easy to get under her skin.

'Polite?' she scoffed. 'Get out.'

'Carla, I have as much right to be here as you.' The fake innocence which laced his every word was testament to his lying abilities, but then he had told the lie so many times he was beginning to believe it himself. Because that's how the brain works, isn't it? Modifying memories to preserve your sanity.

'Now, now' interjected Stella as she began pouring Frank's order, 'if this is going to escalate I'll need you to take it outside.' She had made her feelings over the situation perfectly clear to Carla the day Frank had been found not guilty, and although she was aware of these it still hurt every time she was reminded.

'Stella, please. I need you to believe me more than anyone.' She was the only person she knew who fully understood how he had destroyed her, and now even she thought she was lying.

'Don't you _dare_ bring that up!' she said as she slammed the glass in front of Frank, her eyes on Carla. 'I opened my heart to you while you sat on that sofa and laughed at me...' She was too angry to stop and chose her words carefully, and was pleased that she hadn't explicitly revealed what they had been talking about. The last thing she wanted was people asking awkward questions. Frank was intrigued, but decided not to pursue the matter. Taunting Carla further would be far more entertaining.

'Please don't think that' Carla begged. She couldn't bear the thought of Stella thinking she had brought it all up after so many years for nothing. She knew how hard it must have been to tell someone, and the last thing she wanted was for her to feel like she had put such trust in the wrong person.

'Oh Carla, what's the matter? Is everyone finding out how manipulative you are?' Frank wasn't one to miss an opportunity to taunt her.

'Me manipulative? Wow that's rich.' Her voice was getting increasingly louder, and by now the rest of the pub were listening intently to the public stand-off. There was no entertainment quite like an argument. Stella noticed, and decided this wasn't the atmosphere she wanted in her pub.

'Right that's it, you're causing a scene now Carla...'

'Blame him.' Her voice was high-pitched with offence.

'...I want you to leave' ordered Stella.

'_What_? Are you serious?' She hated the way everyone turned against her. They really had no idea! Although intensely infuriating, she could see why everyone believed him; it's not like she hadn't fallen for the act in the past. She was a day away from marrying him!

'You're the one who shouldn't be drinking anyway.' All three of them knew exactly what Stella was referring to; the night Carla had gotten drunk and run her over. Carla wished she could go back in time and change things, but all she could think about that night was getting away from Frank. She didn't want to admit it, but he had scared her in the Bistro; the way he pulled her to the side by the wrist and had ordered her to stay. She had needed a drink that night, and she needed one now; both were reactions to Frank's actions.

'Can you blame me? Everywhere I turn he's there, I can't escape him!' Carla hadn't meant to let Frank know how deeply he still affected her, but she couldn't contain her outrage at the unfairness of the situation. Why could nobody see how manipulative he was being? It was like everyone was walking around with their eyes closed! He smiled smugly at the knowledge of how much he was getting to his ex-fiancé. He decided to twist the knife further.

'I just came in for a quiet drink; you were the one who initiated the conversation.'

'He's right you know...'

'Fine. _Fine_.' She didn't have the energy to fight this anymore. She knew it was a lost cause anyway. She grabbed her bag and got up from the bar stool. 'If anyone comes looking for me...'

'...unlikely...' Carla decided to ignore him. It was the only way she was going to restrain herself.

'...tell them I'm in the factory.' She stormed out of the pub, all eyes on her, leaving gossip-fuelled punters in her wake.

* * *

><p>She slumped into the office chair, finally breaking down the facade she had put up for so long. She had even surprised herself at how long she had manage to keep composure, but every word he said drove her further and further into a state of self-destruction. Was she dead? Because this sure felt like hell.<p>

She screamed as she ran her fingers through her hair harshly, trying to eradicate her frustration at the limited control she now had in her life. She picked up the folder containing the orders which she had worked so hard to win, and which Frank had claimed as his own as soon as he had walked in the door, and lobbed it across the room. It smashed into the filing cabinet and flung open, scattering the papers in an unorderly fashion. She groaned as she stared at the papers which covered the floor. It would take ages to pick them up.

She bent down to pick up the documents; the last thing she wanted was for Frank to know that she had lost it, and he would probably use it as ammunition by saying she was trying to sabotage his part of the business. She had got most of them into a neat pile when something caught her attention out the corner of her eye.

She reached towards the whiskey bottle and she remembered how she had stashed it between the two filing cabinets when Michelle had almost caught her about a month ago. She unscrewed the cap and the sound of the metal scraping the glass neck as it loosened was so comforting and familiar. As she took off the lid the smell of the amber concoction bombarded her nostrils and the lure became harder to resist.

She thought about how close she had come to having a drink in the pub just ten minutes ago. Maybe the interruption had been a sign? But then her thoughts turned to _why_ she had been stopped, and she shivered. She could see his smug face as he taunted her and hear his voice echoing in her head. He didn't even have to be in the room to upset her; her head was like his second home. No matter how hard she tried to block him out, he was still there. She spent her whole day trying to avoid him, but in truth it didn't mean he wasn't there.

In that one moment, all she wanted – no, all she _needed_ – was to forget about him. She'd do anything just to free herself from the prison she was in. She couldn't take it anymore and without another thought she gulped as much of the contents of the bottle as she could before having to stop for breath.

She revelled in the pain as it burned her throat and liked how it distracted her from everything. She had never been a huge fan of whiskey, but she wasn't fussy when she needed alcohol. Anything which helped her forget was good enough for her. Grimacing, she looked at the bottle and was surprised how half of it had already gone. _Well_, she thought, _waste not want not_. She downed the remaining liquid and discarded the bottle in the bin by her desk, returning to sorting out the orders which lay sprawled across the floor.

When she had finished she returned the file to the desk opposite hers. She didn't like referring to it as _his_ desk, because she didn't want to admit to herself that this was a permanent fixture; the only way she could get through this was taking one day at a time. She fixed her make-up in the ladies' bathroom in case Peter or Michelle did decide to come looking for her; she didn't want them to know how weak she'd been.

She had expected the effects of the alcohol to be more soothing than this. She had hoped to numb her mind so that she didn't have to think about the man who had ruined her life, but the one bottle hadn't been enough. Her body was so used to the binging sessions she had had so regularly that a mere bottle of whiskey was little more than collateral damage. True, she wasn't completely unaffected by it; her co-ordination was definitely impaired and she couldn't think properly, but it was nowhere near the desired outcome. She was sure the effects would kick in soon, but she needed them _now_.

She figured that while she was at the factory she may as well get some work done. She dragged the recent order from the bottom of the large pile of files and folders which she had thrown onto her desk absentmindedly throughout the week and made a mental note to tidy up before the night was out. She had just started reading through it properly when her train of thought was interrupted.

'Well, well.' Carla looked up to see the man she loathed standing at the door of her office. He had a smile from ear to ear as he eyed her up and down. 'Fancy seeing you here.'


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N **__Second chapter is finally here; sorry it took so long! So the ending just kind of...happened. I wasn't planning on doing this, but it just ended up like that and I couldn't rewrite it no matter how hard I tried. I hope you don't hate it as much as I do! Anyway, I know for certain that chapter 3 will take even longer than this one did as I haven't written any of it and the next couple of months are set to be really busy for me. I'm really sorry! Anyway, as always reviews welcome and greatly received and all that jazz. Hope you enjoy!_

'Get out' she sneered. All this hard work to rid him from her mind, and here he was. She was sure he'd come to simply remind her that she couldn't escape him.

'Oh, fighting talk. I like it.' There was a hint of seduction in his voice which made her want to gag, but she forced herself not to react.

'What do you want Frank?' she asked, getting up from her desk so she could distance herself from him, and she headed towards the sliding door which was behind her in case she needed to make a quick getaway.

'Oh, I just remembered I had some paperwork to catch up on. Don't mind me.' He sat down at the desk opposite Carla's and opened the folder which Carla had previously hurled across the room. He thought of how Carla had initially insisted on separate offices and how easy it had been to slowly work his way back into the factory. He glanced at the top order before returning to looking at Carla. She was still standing at the door, her body tensed. She was sure he would notice something; a tear at one of the corners, anything. 'Are you going to sit down, or what?'

'I'm...er...just going to get a drink.' She needed to sober herself up if he was going to be staying.

'Oh, I'll have a tea if you're putting the kettle on.' She looked at him is disgust; how was it possible for someone to be so delusional? She practically ran out the room before letting a solitary tear roll down her cheek, but she wiped it away quickly before she could let herself get any more emotional. She was stronger than this, and she wasn't going to let him get to her.

Carla returned with her mug of coffee cupped tightly in her hands and slowly lowered herself into her office chair. Her over cautiousness didn't go un-noticed by Frank, and he took the chance to make her even more uncomfortable - especially since she hadn't made him his cup of tea. Of course, he hadn't expected her to, but he enjoyed toying with her and was a little annoyed at her disobedience.

'You ok, Carla? You seem a little on edge.' She gritted her teeth and suppressed a scream which was building inside her. She wouldn't let him get to her; she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

'I'm fine.' She stared at the order requirements she had been looking at before Frank had come to the factory, and became abruptly interested in the details. She chanted the specification in her head, trying to drown out all thoughts of the man in front of her.

'Have you been drinking?' He had picked up on the slight slurring of her words and knew he shouldn't be surprised. She was a drunk just like her alchie boyfriend. Carla couldn't believe he'd noticed; she'd been trying so hard to disguise it! But the effects were starting to take a stronger hold and she was finding it harder to fight them.

'I don't see how that's any of your business' she snapped. She hated the way he still poked his nose into her life. That now, even having broken up with him, she still had no privacy. One of the reasons their relationship hadn't worked was his constant need to know where she was and what she was doing and that still hadn't changed. That was about the only thing which hadn't changed in the last 6 months though.

'You have, haven't you? Some things never change' he spat, disgusted at her relationship with alcohol. When they had been together the root of many of their problems had been in the bottom of a bottle. He'd put up with it while he was with her because he loved her too much, but now there was nothing to hold him back.

'No, they don't' she shot back. 'Like however much you try and pretend it didn't happen, we both know it did.' The words cut the atmosphere like a knife and memories of that night hung in the air.

'Let's not start this again, shall we? I'd rather taunt you when you're sober if you don't mind. At least then I know you'll remember it.' His monotone voice and unchanging expression sent chills down her spine. It was clear in that moment just how serious he was about making her life hell.

Carla suddenly wished she hadn't had so much to drink. She knew the factory girls were in the Rovers and it seemed like it wouldn't be hard to get some truth from Frank tonight. After all, he thought she was too drunk to remember it in the morning. He'd get to have his fun, winding her up and wearing her down, and she wouldn't be holding a grudge in the morning. She fumbled for her mobile in her bag under the desk, making sure he wasn't looking.

She looked at her phone, wondering if she'd regret this is in the morning. This could go so wrong, and she wasn't exactly with it, but on the other hand she wasn't about to miss an opportunity like this.

_When I call you put it on loudspeaker. Don't ask._

She sent it to Hayley; it was a no-brainer really, there wasn't anybody else she could trust with something as important as this. She found Hayley in her contacts and pressed dial, placing her phone in her pocket and waiting a while before she was satisfied that she had picked up.

* * *

><p>'I can't believe it.' Hayley had just been filled in on the latest gossip by Shaun and Fiz, who had been having a quiet drink at the time of Carla and Frank's confrontation. 'I wish there was something we could do. I don't know how she does it.' Hayley had such admiration for Carla; true, she didn't hold it completely together one hundred percent of the time, but the way she could be in the same room as him without flipping was amazing.<p>

'I feel sorry for Frank personally.' Eileen was sitting at the bar, but her interruption of the conversation made it clear that she was eavesdropping.

'Nobody asked your opinion Eileen.' She was a good friend of Sean's, but when it came to this they were very much divided. With Sean employed by Carla and Eileen employed by Frank their loyalties laid with their respective bosses, however Sean's opinion was much more deep rooted than Eileen's could ever be. True, the factory staff were the first to gossip and complain, but they were very fond of Carla, with Sean coming second to Hayley when it came to support.

'You know, I'm surprised at you Sean' she said as she turned towards to bar, not wanted to start a row with her lodger. Their friendship was worth more than a silly little argument and they both accepted that they each had their different views.

Out of the blue, the default text message tone sounded from the pocket of Hayley's red anorak. She reached for it in a confused manner; it wasn't often she got a text if she was honest.

'It's her' she announced vaguely, looking curiously at her phone.

'Who?' they chimed in unison; Hayley hadn't really given them a lot to go on. They loved a bit of juicy gossip, and this sure sounded good.

'Mrs Connor.'

'What did she say?' Hayley read the text aloud and they all stared blankly at each other.

'Why?' asked Sean, eager to know the latest.

'No idea.' The sudden ringtone made Hayley jump, despite waiting for the call. She accepted and fiddled with the options to find the loudspeaker setting.

'Mrs Connor?' She asked apprehensively. She was confused when she got no reply; what was going on? Then Carla's voice sounded loudly throughout the pub, attracting the attention of every person in the room. Stella was about to ask Hayley to turn it off, but she decided to see what it was about first.

'You may not want to talk about it, Frank, but I do. Why are you doing this to me?' Carla's voice cracked with fear, and suddenly she didn't want to do this anymore. What if she angered him trying to get him to admit it? It was only the two of them alone in the factory. But she couldn't hang up now, she had to do this.

'Carla, you know why.' His voice was cold and chilling; nothing like any of the others had heard him speak like before. Those who didn't believe Carla were scared to hear him talk like that, and those who did believe her were even surprised just how chilling he could be when it was just the two of them. It was evident to everyone, however, that Frank had no idea he had an audience.

'No, I don't' she pushed. She needed him to spell it out. As many times as she'd heard it, she had to remember that nobody on the other end of the phone had. She started wondering how they were reacting at the other end of the street, but quickly refocused herself to the situation. It was hard enough to concentrate because of her alcohol consumption, let alone letting her mind wander too.

'Well there are two reasons really' he explained calmly. 'You didn't think you'd get away with shopping me to the police did you?' There was a hint of amusement in his voice, and she suddenly felt vulnerable. Carla knew it was a rhetorical question, and she didn't quite know how to answer it anyway. She'd always known that he'd make her life hell if he got off, but at the time she'd needed the comfort of knowing he could go down for what he did.

'And the second?' She wasn't sure she wanted to hear it, but the only way she was going to get him to open up would be to keep him talking about it.

'It's actually quite fun.' The whole pub remained frozen in shock as they heard the scene unfold. Not once had they considered that he was being so mentally abusive. They were aware that he would rub Carla's nose in his newfound freedom, but they had been blissfully unaware of the psychological torture which she had to endure every day.

'You make me sick.' The aggression in her voice was there, but the confidence was sorely lacking. It didn't take a mastermind to work out how repulsed she was by him, and Frank loved that. But he wasn't content with just weakening her; he wouldn't stop until she was completely broken. He wanted to see her soul shattered into tiny unfixable fragments; then he would be satisfied.

'That'll be the alcohol' he said casually. The ease of his tone stung.

Carla was visibly taken a-back by his comment, but after a few seconds her face soon contorted into confused rage. 'You really think you're the innocent one in all this don't you?' she shouted.

'I loved you, Carla. And you hurt me.' They were statements, said with such conviction that his meaning behind the words wasn't hard to decipher. It was _her_ fault he did it. She _deserved_ it.

'How many times? I wasn't sleeping with Peter!' She knew there was no point because he wouldn't believe her, no matter how many times she told him this, but it was an automatic defensive reaction.

'There's no point denying it! You practically admitted it when you broke up with me!' There were many exchanges of glances between people in the pub as they picked up on what Frank had said. According to him, Carla tricked him into bed with her passion, not break up with him due to her steamy affair Peter.

'No...' She stood there shaking her head slowly as she digested what he was saying, her voice feeble again. 'No, I told you I loved him. It was you who came to the conclusion I was a cheating slut.'

'Twist it however you like...'

'I didn't deserve what you did to me, Frank!'

'You needed to be taught a lesson!' The relief for it to finally come out in the open was overwhelming. It was like it was always hanging over them, but it had never been brought to the surface. Carla was satisfied that everyone would have heard enough and was eager to get as far away from him as possible, and she began walking towards the office door as another wave of relief rushed over her body. It was the best she'd felt in ages, and she couldn't believe she'd finally done it. Everyone knew the truth now, and that was enough for her. She let a smile begin to evolve, but she had only walked a few paces when Frank grabbed her wrist and pulled her towards him with a great force. Carla's shocked eyes met his cold stare and she couldn't believe she'd been so stupid to think this would work. 'You broke up with me the day before the wedding, you told me you loved _him_, you wanted me to leave the business and then you go to open the door for me to leave like you could just _toss_ me aside!'

Oh, he wanted to go down that route. Well, there are two sides to every story. She'd heard his sickening version more than once, but she'd never told him hers. 'I came home from work to find you sitting in my living room and you start telling me it doesn't matter that I don't love you because I could grow to love you...'

'I was giving you a chance to make things right, Carla. To take me back...'

'...I asked you to leave so many times, but you were getting angrier and angrier...'

'You wouldn't do as I said!'

'...you were scaring me, Frank!'

'_Good_!' As he spoke his eyes darkened and his voice raised for the first time. She'd only heard his voice raised once before, and it bought back too many memories for her liking.

'Ok, you need to calm down.' In that moment, Carla forgot about the phone in her pocket which was broadcasting their conversation to the entire pub. It was just her and Frank, and this had gone way too far. Hayley couldn't stand it anymore and she knew someone had to do something. She got up from the booth and ran out of the pub, leaving her mobile phone lying in the middle of the table soon as Carla and Frank's voices continued to echo around the room. Julie quickly followed, aware that Hayley wouldn't be able to do much without support.

'You don't have the right to tell me what to do' he said, warningly.

'Don't I know it...' she whispered, turning her head away from him. It just slipped out.

'By tomorrow...' He could tell she wasn't paying attention, that she was trying to block everything out and pretend this wasn't happening. He abruptly pulled her ever closer, so that their bodies were now touching, and she stared into his eyes with such intensity, the fear evident in her eyes and the stiffness of her body. '_By tomorrow_ morning, I need you to have decided who you're laying off.' She swallowed hard, trying to rid the lump in her throat. She didn't want to sound afraid, although she knew it was inevitable.

'I told you, I'm laying off no-one. My workforce will be shown the same loyalty as they showed me, remember?'

'Aww, how touching.' He stroked the side of her cheek to wipe away one of the tears which had escaped, and she flinched away from his touch. She tried to free herself from his grip, but it was too strong, _he_ was too strong, and she just ended up flailing helplessly under his control. 'I won't be in until eleven, and if nobody has gone by then I'll be sacking all of your machinists and we'll only be keeping mine. Is that clear?'

'You can't do this, Frank!' she shouted. She let herself flop, giving up, and he held her up by her wrist. She looked up at him, begging him to spare them. 'They've done nothing wrong!'

'Maybe you should start thinking about them before opening your mouth then. Eleven o'clock, Carla.' Frank left the factory, glancing back to admire the broken wreck who was crouched on the floor, silent tears sliding down her face and her body shaking violently. When Carla heard the factory door slam shut, she finally let herself sob, throwing her mobile against the wall with the little energy she had left. The last thing she wanted was for them to suffer for her mistakes.

* * *

><p>Hayley rattled the factory door urgently, and wasn't surprised to find it locked. Frank wouldn't have taken the chance of somebody walking in on them. She routed around in her bag for a few seconds before pulling out her set of keys and bursting into the factory, with Julie following closely behind.<p>

She was greeted by a dark and eerily empty factory. She hit the lights and searched around frantically but it was clear that nobody was here.

'Julie, give me your phone!' Hayley quickly typed in Carla's number and, hoping she had remembered it correctly, silently prayed that she was okay. Both women jumped when they heard Carla's phone ringing from beside one the machines, and Hayley groaned when she realised she had left her mobile.

No words were exchanged as Hayley and Julie locked the factory back up, knowing that this would be a sleepless night, full of worry for their boss.


	3. Chapter 3

_**A/N **__Firstly, let me apologise for how little I've uploaded lately. It's been a mixture of busy and writer's block :( Plus, I unintentionally have made this chapter the length of two :/ Anyway, having finally written this chapter, I very nearly scrapped it all and restarted. I decided against it and uploaded it anyway because otherwise I have no idea how long you would have to wait until you actually got something, but I'm so sorry about the quality everyone. I hope you're not too disappointed! I seem to be going through a phase at the moment where I'm not happy with everything I write, whether it's the characterisation, the plot line or just the way I've written it in general. Hopefully I'll get over that soon though, and in the meantime I hope this is okay :) There's probably going to be one more chapter after this. On a happier note, thank you so much for all the reviews/alerts/favourites on this story. Last chapter there were 8 reviews which was amazing; I've never had such a huge response to any chapters I've uploaded previously and I am genuinely extremely grateful. I do love reading your feedback._

_(For those of you who have been reading No More Games as well, the 11th chapter is half completed now, but I have serious writer's block on that so it may be a few more weeks before I finally update that; I'm sorry!) _

_And now you can breathe a sigh of relief, because this A/N is finally over! :P_

'Girls. Shauny.' Carla's voice was hoarse from the alcohol consumption the previous night. She would usually try to hide the hangover, but she was fully aware that they all knew about her drinking last night. That wasn't the only think they were aware of. She made her way towards the office without a single glance at the factory workers; she couldn't bear to look at them, knowing what they knew. They all exchanged worried glances, and without needing to be prompted Hayley ran after her into the office.

When she reached the office, she found Carla sitting at her desk, her head in her hands and her fingers running through her silky black hair. It was pretty clear that this was a reaction not only to the hangover she was nursing, but also to the memories of the night before. Hayley took a tentative step towards her, being careful not to frighten her. 'Mrs Connor?' she asked, in a sort of half whisper. Carla brushed her hair away from her face and looked up to face the reality from which she wanted to hide, revealing her make-up-less face to Hayley. She had clearly visible bags under her eyes due to the sleepless nights she had suffered for nearly six months now and the sight of her looking so broken pulled at Hayley's heartstrings.

'Look Carla, are you ok?' she asked, genuinely concerned.

'Oh yeah, don't you worry about me Hayley' she replied, her tone sombre. 'It's not like he hasn't done worse.' She pushed her way past Hayley to confront her workforce, knowing the one question they were all waiting to ask. She was kidding herself if she thought their concern was towards her; they had mortgages to pay. She took up her usual space at the bottom of the stairs to address her workforce. 'Now I don't want you lot to worry about your jobs. You're going nowhere, do you hear me?'

'We...erm...well we wanted to talk to you first, but...' Hayley was staring at the floor as she spoke, stuttering over her words. She knew what Carla could be like when she was angry or annoyed, and Hayley wasn't sure what reaction this was going to get judging by her temperamental attitude already this morning.

'Spit it out, Hayley' she prompted.

'Well if it's alright with you, w...we all want to go to the police as witnesses. You know, to his confession?' Carla just stood there motionless, looking at Hayley as if she had lost her senses. She was already wishing she hadn't been so drunk as to do what she had done last night.

'I don't think that's going to help, do you? The justice system is about as useless as ever.'

'B...but the police can't ignore all of us!' Hayley reasoned. 'Stella's agreed to come forward too. A...and Eileen.'

'I'll think about it.' She retorted, eager to end the conversation, before quickly changing the subject. 'For now, continue with this new order. If we don't get this to Cartwright on time we've got a serious problem on our hands.'

'But what are you going to do when Frank gets here?' Sean intercepted. It was the first direct reference to that man, and it sent a few shivers up Carla's spine though she refused to show any kind of reaction to his name.

'Leave that to me. I've got until eleven to decide how I'm going to do this, so you lot worry about stitching fabric, and I'll worry about the even bigger mess I've got myself in' she sighed as she began to head back into her office where she could think without being disturbed. Not that she thought being alone would help her come up with a magnificent idea of how to deal with the situation, but her hangover wasn't appreciating the noise of the sewing machines or the jabbering of her staff.

'You haven't just got yourself in a mess though, have you...' Carla stopped dead in her tracks and looked around to meet Izzy's gaze.

'Izzy!' Fiz exclaimed, unable to believe her ears. All of her colleges were looking at her with pure surprise etched into each of their faces at her boldness.

'Look, I understand.' Izzy said, trying to defend herself while still getting her point across. 'But I've got bills that need paying, and I can't afford to lose this job.' As she spoke, Carla closed her eyes in an attempt to control her annoyance.

'I told you your job's secure, didn't I?' Carla shot back through gritted teeth. The last thing she needed was this on top of everything else.

'Yes, but...'

'No buts. There's no way I'm going to let him win. Now I've got...' She glanced at the clock, and her heart sank when she realised how little time she had until he would be returning to the factory. '...two hours...to come up with a master strategy, so if you'll excuse me.' She gestured towards her office sarcastically, and when she was satisfied she would be having no reply from her nervous workers she strode into her office and slammed the door shut behind her. The loud clatter hurt her banging head, but it achieved the desired effect as all of her staff got busily to work as soon as she had gone, not wanting to make the situation worse than it already was.

As she sat alone in the office her mind milled over the conversation. Did she really have the support of so many people?

* * *

><p>'Mrs Connor?' Julie asked tentatively as Carla walked past.<p>

'Yes, Julie' she replied, exasperated, heading over to her machine.

'Sorry, but this material just keeps snagging.'

'Oh give it here.' Carla leaned over the machine to snatch the sample, but as she did her sleeve raised slightly to reveal the nasty bruise which was forming on her wrist from Frank's harsh grasp last night. The machinists all stared at her wrist, while she examined the material obliviously. Their faces were a mixture of shock, fear and pity as they saw the finger shaped marks beginning to appear. 'There's nothing wrong with the fabric, Julie. Start sewing properly or Frank will make sure you're the first to leave.' She looked up to meet the several bemused faces staring back at her. 'What?' she demanded. She didn't think she'd been that harsh, just the truth. She'd said a hell of a lot worse before. She looked at Hayley for support, but when she saw the tears in her eyes she realised there must be more to this than she thought. She looked behind her, a sudden fear that their reaction was to Frank's presence. She wasn't surprised when he wasn't there – it was only ten thirty and she could always sense his presence – but it was beyond her as to what the problem was. 'Are you going to tell me what's going on, or do I have to guess?'

Her question was met by an eerie silence, but after a while Hayley choked back the tears and whispered, 'Did he do that last night?'

'What are you talking about Hayley?' she asked.

'Frank. Did he do that last night?'

'Do _what_?' Her patience was wearing thin; what was with all the cryptic questions?

'_That_.' Hayley nodded towards Carla's arm, and when she looked down she realised what everyone was referring to. The nauseous shades of red and purple leapt out at her and she quickly pulled down her sleeve harshly, as if doing so would wipe the image from her workers' memories. She felt like a rabbit in the headlights as she looked at them, wide eyed. Her brain frantically searched for something to say, but the only words she could find were the ones she had been trying so desperately to block. _He touched me_. The words ran through her head over and over again like a broken record, and all she wanted to do was smash it into millions of tiny pieces.

'Carla, you need to let us go to the police' Hayley begged. All she wanted to do was pull her into a massive motherly hug, although she was fully aware of the reception she would probably receive.

'They won't listen to me, Hayley.' Carla looked her straight into her eyes, and for a moment Hayley could see a flicker of fear.

'They'll have to listen to us' Fiz reassured her. 'There's way too many of us for them to just ignore!'

'You're my employees. They'll come up with some ridiculous story of how I'm threatening to sack you if you don't say it, or something...'

'Oh Carla, don't be silly...' Hayley said tenderly, her affection strangely comforting. But Hayley didn't know. None of them knew.

'No, you don't understand. The way he twists and manipulates situations; he'll have them eating out the palm of his hand from the word go.' Her mind flashed back to all the times he'd lied and deceived both inside the relationship and after.

'Ok, just say, _hypothetically_, they did think that. How would that explain the motive of everyone else in the pub?'

'Trust me, he'll find a way.' When nobody looked convinced, she decided to throw a few more obstacles in their way. How could they think it would be so easy as to just make a phone call? Everything was complicated when it came to the police. 'Besides, how many people would actually go ahead with this? You've heard what he's like, what if they're too scared to come forward?'

'You can't carry on like this! Besides, do you have any idea how to stop Frank sacking us yet?' Shaun may not have had the bond with Carla which Hayley did, but he still understood what made her tick to a certain extent. He knew that underneath everything she was extremely vulnerable, but he'd always pretend not to notice; he knew she'd prefer it that way. But from what he'd heard last night, there was no way Carla was going to let them all lose their jobs, and he was right. She looked around at each one of them in turn, but all she could see was innocent, hard-working people who didn't deserve to be jobless because of her. She sighed heavily, before finally giving in.

'Fine, ok. Ring the police. But don't say I didn't warn you.'

* * *

><p>Frank strode into the factory. That lay in he had had had done him the world of good. He'd told Carla he'd be going to a <em>business meeting<em>, but truth was, he enjoyed the thought of her squirming, watching the clock as it got closer to his arrival. All the workers turned to look at him, their faces telling him something was definitely up. At first he thought Carla might have blamed having to lay off the staff on him – now that _would_ be stupid of her – but then after a quick head count he realised not one employee was missing. Ballsy bitch.

Carla made her way out of the office at the sight of him, not wanting to get stuck in the same room with him alone. She pretended to have not seen him entering and headed over to Hayley's machine.

'Sorry, Hayley, what was it you needed me for?' Carla stared intensely at Hayley, and she was quick to catch on that she was trying to ignore his presence. It was blindingly obvious this wouldn't work for long, but Carla was desperate to delay speaking to him as much as possible.

'Yeah...er yeah my machine seems to be playing up.' Carla opened her mouth to reply, but she didn't have chance to speak.

'Carla.' As he announced his presence his voice echoed throughout the building as every person in the room froze at his single word. It was at this point that the workers understood how hard it must have been for Carla to work with him. Just the sound of his voice last night was enough to put them on edge, so they couldn't imagine what it must be like for her. She closed her eyes tightly, psyching herself up for the looming conversation, and then turned to face the man who had haunted her dreams throughout the night.

'Frank.' There was a moment where the atmosphere in the room was electric until the silence was broken by Frank, after he had looked pointedly around the room.

'It's busy in here this morning' he said casually.

'Nothing unusual' she snapped.

'A word?' He gestured towards the office, his eyes mildly menacing.

'No thanks, I'm busy. Sorry Hayley, what were you saying?' she asked, turning back round to the uncomfortable woman.

'_A word_, Carla.'

'Get a dictionary, it's easier' Carla replied, her back still to Frank. She surprised herself with how bold she was being; she somehow felt safer now so many people could see through his facade. She had a feeling things would be a different story if she was facing him though. Whenever she looked into his eyes she could see deep into his soul, and the coldness which met her knocked the entire bolshie stance which she usually held from her. 'Carry on, Hayley.' Her employee shifted awkwardly, disliking how she was being used as a barrier between them but too kind to say anything.

'Okay, have it your way' Frank declared. 'Can I have everyone's attention please?' It was a pointless question, as everybody had been staring at him in silence ever since he had entered the building. 'Evidently Carla hasn't told you all, but she's made a mistake with one of the insurance policies. The insurance only covers a certain number of staff, and since our factories joined we've now got double the staff so...' he looked at Carla, deciding to relish every uncomfortable gesture, '...we need to make half of you redundant. As it was _her_ mistake, she offered to lose those which were originally her employees. I'm sorry, but there is no alternative. Hayley, could you leave your factory keys on your way out?' He smiled smugly at his final touch; he know how much Carla thought of Hayley and by making it personal he knew it would twist the knife further. The workers all looked at each other rather awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

'She's leaving nothing, Frank. None of them are going anywhere.' Her voice wavered slightly, but it had more power behind it than she had expected. Frank gave a short laugh, sadistically amused at how she was practically asking for humiliation.

'How are you going to explain that to the insurance people, Carla?' She saw red, fed up with the pretence when everybody in the room knew exactly what was going on. It was like all her confidence had returned in a split second and she didn't even know what she was saying until she'd said it.

'_If_ I had to explain it to the insurance people then that would be a problem. But considering I don't, I don't think I need to worry about that.' As soon as it came out she wished she'd just kept her mouth shut almost instantaneously, but now she'd had a taste of her old self she wasn't in a hurry to let it slip away from her again. Frank could sense that he was losing control of the situation, and figured it would be a lot easier to knock her back down a peg or two in the privacy of the office.

'Office, _Carla_' he called over his shoulder, as he headed in that direction. She took a deep breath.

'No, _Frank_.' He leaned against the doorframe, eying her expectantly. To Carla, it felt like he was undressing her with his eyes and part of her wanted to head into the office just to stop him looking at her like that. However she stayed strong, not willing to give in so easily.

'For the _love_ of _God_, Carla. What is wrong with you this morning?'

'She said no, Mr Foster.'

'Oh, come on Hayley. We all know he doesn't know the meaning of that word.' Carla laughed, but it was humourless. It was easy to see how much she wanted to make light of the situation, but it simply wasn't something which can just be turned into a joke and the pain could be heard as an undertone to her voice. She couldn't stand the fact that she couldn't just laugh it off like anything else that upset her; what he'd done to her was far beyond anything she'd had to cope with before, and she'd had to cope with a great deal of strife, but she, hand on heart, had no idea what to do.

Frank looked at Hayley, unable to believe that she'd just got involved. Usually, Hayley would be the last person in the factory to open her mouth; she always avoided confrontation if she could. The only exceptions to this were when she felt exceptionally strongly about a matter, so either he'd underestimated the bond between Carla and Hayley, or there was a lot more to this than people were letting on. 'Okay, I've definitely missed something here. So who's going to fill me in?'

'We know what happened last night.'

'Kirk!' Carla gasped. I mean, they all knew he was a bit...simple...but none of them were expecting him to come out with it just like that. Carla's reaction was all Frank needed to know exactly what she had told the workers, and he got to work to think of the best way to approach the situation. It didn't take much thinking though to decide denying that any such conversation took place would be the best option.

'Oh no' he sighed. 'What web of lies are you spinning now, Carla?'

'We heard it from your own mouth. Mrs Connor called us in the Rovers last night while she was with you' Shaun explained, unable to stand the smug look on Frank's face, thinking he was going to get away with it again.

'Did she really?' Frank turned to face her, suppressing the anger which made him want to launch at her. The only outward sign of the rage which boiled beneath the surface was that he flexed his hand, but Carla didn't miss his slight movement. Her eyes shot to his hand, her eyes wide and fearful as she watched for further movement.

'I'm going to get to some fresh air.' The words fell out of her mouth in a jumbled rush in her haste to get out of harm's way, but as she went to leave she felt his hand constrict around her wrist once again. She could feel his fingers tightening around the tender skin and she winced at the unexpected pain.

He was suddenly behind her so that their bodies were touching and leant into her so that he could whisper in her ear, 'I think we've got a few things to discuss, don't you?' Before anybody had time to react, Carla had pulled away from his grasp harshly and stormed towards the factory door, determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing her upset. She had only got halfway across the factory floor, however, when a couple of police officers entered the building.

'Mr Foster, could we have a word please.'

'Of course' he replied, his mask of respectability firmly in tact again. 'Carla will be alright without the office for a while, won't you Carla.'

'Actually, we need to do this down at the station.' The workers all smiled at each other, a sense of satisfaction at their part in all this.

'Oh, that serious?' Frank asked, almost mockingly.

'I think you know what this is about, don't you sir?' The taller of the two police officers was straight to the point, but the smaller one was younger, with less experience, and he looked somewhat doubtful that the man in front of them had done what he had been accused of. He looked so...normal.

'Actually I have no idea, but nothing surprises me anymore with _her_ around.' It was like he was trying to rub their noses in his manipulative skills, and it was that step too far for Shaun.

'You lying...'

'Shaun,' Carla interrupted. 'As much as I appreciate the support, and God knows I'd enjoy listening to what you were going to say, I don't think you're about to do yourself any favours.'


End file.
